Page 14 of This Violent Light
I shift my attention to Sebastian. He isn’t touching me. He stands the same distance as he was by my apartment, but it’s clearhedid this. He magically transported us, and now, he’s staring at me with the same amused expression from before. He thinks this is funny, I realize. He’s just done an impossible magic trick, and he’s waiting for me to ask him how he did it.
I should ask. Because,really, how did he do that?
Instead, I straighten my top and skirt. It takes all my concentration to keep level footing, seeing as my left shoe isnow missing its heel. I cross my arms and glare at him. As casually as I can manage, I evaluate our new location.
The restaurant and its surrounding buildings are too far for anyone to see us. There’s an empty park behind him, complete with a slide and a jungle gym. On the opposite side, there’s a sprawling subdivision, blocked by a solid wooden fence.
My best chance is the Chinese restaurant, I decide. If I can manage to get out of these shoes—they’re latched around my ankles, unfortunately—I might have a chance. I’ll take off as soon as he lets his guard down, and I’ll just pray his magic trick was a one-time thing. If it was, Imighthave a chance of outrunning him.
If that fails (which feels very possible, to be honest), I’ll scream as loud as my lungs allow. Then I’ll scream even harder.
“Tell me what you want,” I say. It sounds demanding, confident, but Sebastian only smiles at me. Despite his attractive face, the smile doesn’t look quite right. It’s too predatory, as if he’s not truly human.
He steps closer, and I force myself not to move. Instead, I take off my broken heel. Once it’s discarded on the sidewalk, I start on the next. The whole time, I keep my shoulders relaxed, my face impatient.
This is fine, I’m trying to convey.Say what you want, and then I’ll be on my merry way. I’m not going to run. We’re not going to have any sort of altercation.
“Your father,” he says. “What’s his name?”
I freeze, fingers paused on the latch of my right heel. When I look up at him, Sebastian is two feet away, staring at me with a strange expression on his face. It’s the first time he hasn’t looked predatoryormocking. There is only open, gaping curiosity.
“I don’t have a father,” I say. I can only hope he doesn’t notice the way my words shake, the way my heart pounds loud enough I can almost hear it.
There’s no way anyone in Aberlena should know I’m here looking for my father. It’s got to be a trap, some sort of manipulation…
“Say his name,” Sebastian demands.
I lick my lips, but my entire mouth has gone dry. I blink at this strange, mysterious man and wonder if I’ve had it wrong this entire time. Maybe thereisa reason he approached me at the bar. Maybe he already knows who my father is, and maybe it’s because…
“Are you my brother?” I blurt.
To my surprise, Sebastian laughs. It’s deep and warm, a pleasant sound that doesn’t match his cold demeanor.
“No,” he says. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t release a full smile. “And thank heavens for that.”
“What’re you going to do?” I ask. My stomach bottoms out, and I glance again at the Chinese restaurant.
No one is thankful they’re unrelatedunlessthey plan to do terrible things to you. A few nights ago, I loved the idea of Sebastian doing exactly that. Now, I can only hope he never gets the chance.
“Your father’s name,” he repeats. He takes a small step away from me, the first time he’s done so since we arrived here. “Tell me, Grace.”
“I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to let me go once I do.” I lift my chin, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. My toes sting against the cold sidewalk, but I force myself to act unaffected.
“I promise,” Sebastian says.
“His name was Walter Pruce,” I say. My breath is ragged,unsteady. “I haven’t seen him in years though, so whatever you’re thinking?—”
It happens again. The blur of motion, the sensation of running without moving my feet. As the world spins around me, I realize I’m being carried. It’s longer this time. Long enough that I feel Sebastian’s hands on my side and shoulder. Long enough that I kick my legs and flail my arms. My fist connects with flesh, but Sebastian doesn’t react.
We just keep moving, moving, moving. Until suddenly, we slam to a halt.
This time, I collapse onto the ground when Sebastian releases me. He stands several feet away, and I lean into the grass, digging my fingernails through the dirt. Beautiful, solid, unmoving dirt.
I try to look up at Sebastian, but my head’s struggling to accept I’m no longer moving. One turn of my head, and I’m dizzy all over again. My stomach clenches, and before I can stop it, I puke across the grass.
“Oh hells,” Sebastian says, putting more distance between us.
I wipe my mouth and grunt in response. I’m too disoriented to point out that this ishisfault, not mine. He has no right to be grossed out.
